I'm Going To Be Just Like Him
by Maevainwen Adaniel
Summary: Oneshot. Just a random Aragorn fic, how he decided his future.


**I'm Going To Be Just Like Him**

Estel crept forward through the mire, pushing back his long, dark hair from his sweating forehead.

"I don't like this," said his blond friend, unsheathing his sword.

"Hush," hissed Estel, "If you don't like this maybe you should leave, but we must reclaim the citadel before dark." His dark eyes gleamed challengingly, and the soldier dropped his gaze.

"My friends," Estel proclaimed, "We are in this, together, to the end. I am just as exhausted as you are, and have been through the same toils and battles," he broke off suddenly as a bush nearby rustled, and he leapt to his feet yelling "Now, charge."

The company charged at the enemy, shouting.

"Hey, that's not fair," came a voice from the bushes. "We weren't ready."

A boy emerged with his pale face smudged with dirt and twigs in his fiery hair. Estel drew himself up to his full five feet, and looked regally at his enemy.

"There are no rules of war that say you have to wait 'till the enemy is ready before you attack. We are always told that it is best to take the enemy unawares, aren't we."

The boy scowled at Estel. "Just because your daddy was the king doesn't mean that you have the right to make all the rules."

"Oh, doesn't it. Is that a challenge?" After noting the boys' nod, Estel groaned, "Not again. Very well, I accept your challenge."

A ripple of excitement moved through the crowd of boys, as they remembered the last one-on-one fight

Just then the dinner gong rang and a woman's voice called all the boys to the hall. As they passed through the carved wooden doors, a shout of joy rose from them as they noted the bard sitting by the fire.

During the meal jests flew back and forth, across the room, but the young boy was unusually quiet. He seemed entranced by the sight of the blind bard sitting by the fire, the scar running down one side of his ancient face illuminated by the leaping flames.

Estel slipped away from the table and hesitantly moved over to stand by the bard, who turned to him.

"Hail, lad," he said, inclining his head. Estel started; surprised the man had known he was there.

"Do not be startled," Said the bard, "since I lost my sight long ago, my other senses have intensified. I sensed your approach. Who are you; you do not seem to be a commoner."

"I am Estel, son of lady Gilraen."

"Then I must tell of the tale of Beren and Luthien. Beren was your ancestor, did you know that?"

"No I didn't," replied Estel, wondering at the Bards low, melodious voice. "I haven't heard that tale. Is it exciting?"

"Aye lad, that it is."

When the feasting came to an end, the room fell silent. Shining eyes were turned expectantly towards the bard as he began to speak softly.

"Among the tales of sorrow and ruin that come down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures. And one of these histories most fair still in the ears of the elves is the tale of Beren and Luthien.1"

He launched into the tale, his voice hypnotic in the half-lighted room. He told of the betrayal of Barahir, of Berens' wanderings, his entrance into Doriath and his seeing, for the first time, Luthien, dancing on the grass. His immediate love for her, and his meeting with her parents, and rejection as a suitor, unless he could recover to Thingol a silmaril, from the crown of Morgoth.

His voice grew and shrank with the tale and Estel felt himself drawn into it. He listened, entranced, as the tale unfolded before him. Luthiens' escape to aid her lover, and her journey, accompanied by the talking hound, Huan could have been happening in the room.

They were told of the journey into Nargothrond, the fortress of Morgoth, where she was captured and saved Beren, their journey to Angband, where Beren stole a silmaril, but lost it and the hand that had been grasping it when it was eaten, by the wolf, Carcharoth, and finally his winning the hand of Luthien.

As the last words faded into the silence, Estel turned and ran into the night. Gilraen followed him, and found him watching the moon with shining eyes.

"What is it, my son?" she asked.

"I saw myself in Beren, mama, and I'm going to be just like him."

1 Quoted from the Silmarillion, the tale of Beren and Luthien.


End file.
